Someday Out of the Blue
by perfectromanceinmymind
Summary: Mercedes & Sam can't fight their feelings anymore. Post S5 finale, summer 2014.


**OMG, I wrote something! It has been so long! Anyway, I've been thinking since the finale how _stupid_ Mercedes & Sam's break-up was, so here's my 'fix.' Hope you enjoy - please let me know!**

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"_Here comes the night – here come the memories…"_

Mercedes sighed as she scrolled mindlessly through her Twitter feed. She sat cross-legged on the bed of yet another hotel room, somewhere in Middle America, and she had to finally admit it.

She missed Sam.

Like, a lot.

She should be having the time of her life – touring the country, singing her songs, hanging with two of her besties. And she really was. Sure, they weren't in a fancy tour bus, just a regular motor coach, but it was still pretty awesome. And maybe they were staying at plain old Holiday Inns and such and not four-star hotels but they weren't flea-bag dumps either. They were perfectly serviceable and some had free breakfast and a few had even had those really nice waffle makers, which were _awesome._ And it didn't really matter where you went with Brittany and Santana; you were pretty much guaranteed to have a good time. So, yeah, she was loving being on tour, feeling like her life was really beginning.

But then night rolled around and she was curled up alone in another hotel bed – well, it was a little lonely.

She and Sam had been together for almost six months this time around and until she started sleeping alone again, she hadn't realized how accustomed she'd become to sharing her bed with him. Even though their relationship hadn't turned sexual, there had still been plenty of kissing and cuddling and above-the-waist touching. There had been something so extraordinary about falling asleep in Sam's arms, his hand curved around the slope of her breast in a way that was sensual but yet, somehow, comforting too.

But they'd had to break up, Mercedes reasoned. She just wasn't ready for sex yet and she really didn't know when she would be and it just wasn't fair to Sam. The look in his eyes when he'd confessed about the woman at his photo shoot had been heartbreaking.

She wished like hell that she had been ready. She'd always dreamed of a nice boy, a boy who loved her, and she'd had that with Sam. But it just wasn't the right time. Or maybe it had been and maybe she was just scared.

"Maybe you're just an idiot," she muttered out loud to herself, a little touch of exasperation in her tone.

Then she shook her head. No. Breaking up had been the right thing to do. She couldn't hold Sam back, couldn't feel responsible for his guilt. So here she was. A little lonely but with a clear conscience.

(She'd had this same basic conversation with herself pretty much almost every night and kept dragging herself around to the same conclusion.)

But, still she missed him. His lopsided grin, his floppy hair, his slightly sarcastic sense of humor. (Oh, how she missed how he could make her laugh!) She even missed his stupid impressions.

She wondered where he was at that moment. She knew he was in Lima, working for Mr. Hummel, trying to figure out his next life move, but she didn't know much beyond that. Besides a few Facebook comments or Twitter favorites here and there, they hadn't really been in communication since leaving NYC.

Artie and Tina and Mike were all home for the summer too, so they were clearly hanging out. Quinn had gotten a summer job in Virginia Beach, so she could be near Puck while he was at Langley and Sam had posted some pics from a weekend trip to visit them at the beginning of the summer.

Kurt and Blaine had stayed in the city, but had gone home to Lima to visit for the Fourth. Sam had posted a picture with Blaine captioned 'the bromance lives!' It had made Mercedes grin, thinking of their New York days. The last two years had been so tough for them all but at least they'd had each other, in all their random, vaguely incestuous combinations.

Quinn had texted her after Sam's trip East.

'That boy has still got it so bad for you,' she'd said and Mercedes had just stared at her phone for what felt like hours because, really, how do you respond to that?

She'd finally settled for 'Yeah?' and Quinn had immediately sent back, 'Oh yeah. It's not over for you two, not by a long shot.'

She'd had to go to hair and makeup then and had no time to come up with a response then so she'd just let it go, chalking it up to exaggeration and a sudden romantic streak Quinn seemed to have developed after re-kindling things with Puck. She probably figured that if she and Puck could back together, well, then, hell, anyone could manage it.

But, those tidbits aside, she didn't know much about Sam's life right now and she couldn't help but feel a little sad about that.

A loud knock at the door interrupted her reverie.

With a groan, she tossed her phone on the bed beside her and got up to answer the door.

Santana and Brittany had a knack for finding an at-least halfway decent club in pretty much every city they'd been to thus far and while she sometimes went with them, she'd already told them she didn't feel like it tonight. But even when she'd declined, they usually stopped by anyway to try to convince her to come along.

So as she went to open the door, she was already firmly declaring, "I thought I told you two crazies that I didn't want to go out…to…night…" until she actually got the door open and her voice trailed off at the shock of who was actually standing there.

Sam's whole face lit up at seeing her – it didn't even register that she was in her pajamas (cute ones, though) – he just took a deep breath and launched right into the speech he'd been preparing for hours or maybe days or even weeks or maybe from the minute they'd broken up back in New York.

"Hi," he said as she gaped at him. That 'hi' sounded a little nervous but the nerves clearly faded as he continued speaking. "I'm sorry to barge in on your tour and I know this probably kind of crazy or maybe insane or something, but the thing is, is that this is stupid, this whole us not being together thing and I hate it. Mercedes, I love you. We should be together. Bottom line. It's just the way it should be. I'm not trying to tell you what to do in like a creepy caveman type way, but it's what I think."

Mercedes tried to open her mouth and say something, anything, but her powers of speech seemed to have completely deserted her and Sam rushed on, "And I know you're worried about the sex thing, but you know what, whatever. Who cares? I mean, yeah, I'm probably gonna have, like, hormonal urges, 'cause I'm a guy and it's kinda what we do and yeah, I'm gonna check out other women sometimes, 'cause women are beautiful and it's like appreciating art or whatever, but here's the thing, 'Cedes. Since we broke up, I've flirted with other girls, gone out with a few, even kissed a couple and you know what? It all sucked. Because they weren't you."

Somehow, Mercedes found her voice. "I – I don't even – Sam Evans, what the hell are you _doing_ here?"

Sam frowned. "Do you really need me to repeat all of that? 'Cause I'm not sure I can remember every word…"

Mercedes fought the laugh threatening to bubble up. "No – I just – I just need a minute to comprehend all that."

"Okay – here's the simple version," Sam said earnestly, grabbing her hands. "I'm here because I don't want to kiss anyone but you. I don't want to not have sex with anyone but you."

That did it. Mercedes couldn't help it – she burst out laughing and a few seconds later, when his words caught up to him, Sam did too.

"Okay, okay, you know what I mean. Right?"

Mercedes shook her head fondly. They were still holding hands and she tugged him across the threshold into her room. "Get in here, you fool. Making a scene in the hotel hallway!"

Sam laughed again. "Damn right," he said, leaning in to kiss her and she let him, despite the still open door.

"Woo! Get it, Trouty!" Santana yelled from the end of the hallway, where she and Brittany were headed to the elevator.

"Hush up!" Mercedes called back cheerfully. "I'm assuming ya'll were in on this?"

Both girls shrugged as the elevator doors opened and they stepped in, waving goodbye. Mercedes turned back to look at Sam, shaking her head.

"I can't believe you are here," she said as she went back to her spot on the bed.

"Good disbelief or bad?" he asked as he sat down beside her.

"Good. Very good," she replied, studying him intently.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" he asked and she shook her head.

"No. I'm just – are you sure, Sam? Really, really sure you're okay about the terms of our relationship, if we have one again?"

He nodded. "Give me a little credit, will ya? Yeah, I had a moment where I got a little sex-obsessed, but I'm over it. Being with you – in whatever way you're ready for, whenever you're ready for it – is way more important than getting laid."

His voice was so sincere, his words so earnest, his face so clearly full of love for her (for _her_! Her heart thrilled to realize it) that somehow she knew he was telling the truth. That it would be okay, it would work out somehow, that they were better together than they were apart.

His eyes searched hers. "So? Will you let me be your boyfriend again?" he asked quietly and she responded by leaning over to kiss him and quickly found herself wrapped in those arms that she'd missed so much.

Sam grinned as he pulled her close. "I'll take that as a yes," he mumbled and she laughed. Damn right, it was a yes!


End file.
